


maybe i'll come alive

by harperuth



Series: Prowl Week 2020 [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperuth/pseuds/harperuth
Summary: “There’s no need to be rude,” Prowl murmured, and bit lightly at Optimus’ jaw, “Do you want me to fuck you?”- - -Or, Prowl utilizes a loophole of his unique position in the command structure to help Optimus out for Prowl Week day five.
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Prowl
Series: Prowl Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712650
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91
Collections: Prowl Week





	maybe i'll come alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auto_thots (towards_morning)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards_morning/gifts).



> i had nothing planned for this day, but then james tweeted about tfa prowlop where op gets railed and well?? who am i to say no to that????
> 
> title is from 'hard times' by paramore, my personal favorite tfa op song

Optimus thought he was doing pretty good, all things considered.

His existence had proved to be one car crash after another, though some part of him realized that the _literal car crash_ may have pushed him over this particular edge. He didn’t think Ratchet yelling, “Take a drive and maybe you’ll calm down,” at him was technically warranted. He’d been perfectly calm.

City gave way to suburb gave way to crowded highway. Optimus’ engine snarled and he took the next exit he could, taking turn after turn until there was no one left on a road that could barely be described as ‘paved.’ He transformed and sidestepped a fence, definitely not stomping over to sit on a small hill. 

Prowl settled next to him. Optimus didn’t look at him, burying his face behind his servos, “I need a babysitter now too?”

Prowl didn’t answer. Optimus’ fans clicked on as his core temperature rose, “Fuck off.”

“No,” Prowl sounded perfectly unaffected. Optimus wanted to wreck something. Possibly Prowl.

“Have you ever followed an order in your entire functioning?” Optimus’ denta clenched together. Prowl hummed.

“You’re not my Commander,” Prowl had been sitting perfectly upright, but now he relaxed a fraction, legs unfolding.

“Fuck you,” Optimus’ anger was fast disippating and he felt ridiculous. He was acting like a newspark.

“Generally, your orders align with what I was already going to do,” Prowl was seemingly content to ignore him as he slowly stretched his frame out. Optimus very valiantly did not watch it happen, “But I promise you that I’m not doing what you tell me to do. In any capacity.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” Optimus grumbled, picking his face up. Before he could turn and glare at Prowl, he was flat on his back with Prowl above him. Optimus tried to jerk, but his wrists were held fast against the ground near his helm. Optimus glared up at Prowl.

“You need to relax,” Prowl’s face was impassive, perhaps just a little smug. Optimus pulled at Prowl’s grip. 

“Is that right?” Optimus growled, engine revving back up. In annoyance. Definitely annoyance.

“How long has it been?” Prowl had wormed his way between Optimus’ thighs at some point. Optimus should pay better attention.

“Fuck you,” Optimus bit out. His array stirred behind his panel, the proximity alone causing interest.

“Well that was the idea,” Prowl deadpanned, starting up a slow grind, panel to panel. Optimus shuttered his optics, pushing back into the movement. Prowl hummed another, happier note, “There you go. How long, Optimus?”

“Academy,” Optimus grit out through clenched denta. Prowl clucked his glossa.

“No wonder you’re stretched so thin,” Prowl’s hips moved slowly, drawing charge out of Optimus with each pass, “I’m amazed you lasted so long without snapping.”

“I’m not a slave to my baser impulses,” Optimus groaned and his panel slid back. It really had been a while.

“No,” Prowl agreed, his still shut panel pushed against Optimus’ mesh. Optimus groaned, “But you are still a mech, and not bleeding that charge off, not having that connection, can’t be good for you.”

“Yes, thank you Ratchet,” Optimus threw his helm back and shuddered as Prowl’s plating caught the edge of his node.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Prowl murmured, and bit lightly at Optimus’ jaw, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Optimus shuddered. Prowl’s vocalizer had gained just an edge of static to it, and it did wonders for him. Optimus tested the hold on his wrists again. Prowl loosened his digits until Optimus whined. Optimus could feel him smirk against his jaw, “Thought so.”

“Please,” Optimus grit out.

“Please what,” Prowl’s hips kept the same maddening pace, sliding over Optimus’ mesh now that his lubricant had thoroughly slicked Prowl’s plating, occasionally passing over his node.

“Primus,” Optimus dug his heels into the soft ground beneath them, slipping every time he tried to get enough leverage to push up.

“I’ll give you what you need,” Prowl admonished, digits tightening around Optimus’ wrists, “Just _ask_.”

“Fuck,” Optimus shivered. Prowl smiled against his jaw. Optimus turned his helm and caught Prowl’s lips in a brief kiss, “Fuck me.”

“So crass,” Prowl kissed him again, sucking at Optimus’ glossa. 

“Fuck me, _please_?” Optimus gasped, his vents roaring, systems reverting heat reduction through his mouth.

“Acceptable,” Prowl’s vocalizer had even more static creeping into it, and Optimus whined in response. His panel finally released, and Optimus all out moaned at the feeling of a charge-dripped spike nudging over his valve mesh.

Prowl twisted his hips and somehow nudged his spike past Optimus’ valve rim. Optimus was fully willing to embrace the magical nature of cyberninjas, as long as Prowl kept doing shit like that. Optimus’ calipers clenched, trying to pull Prowl further into him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Optimus dropped his helm back down, pushing at Prowl’s grip for any sort of leverage, “Prowl— Please—”

“You’ll get what you need,” Prowl reminded, but there was a reediness to his tone. His spike sank past another ring of Optimus’ calipers.

“You planning on killing me first?” Optimus panted, data misfired throughout his valve nodes, some of them receiving the answering charges they wanted, the other rubbing each other in confusion.

“I’m going to gag you next time,” Prowl said through grit denta. Optimus grinned and clenched his calipers down. Prowl’s hips stuttered forward. He stilled and bit down on Optimus’ jaw, much harder than before, “Behave.”

“Make me,” Optimus’ sensor net was alight with input and connection that he hadn’t felt in decades. He wanted nothing more than to get pounded into the grass behind him, and if being an impertinent brat got him that well...it had always worked with partners before

Prowl twisted back, withdrawing his spike but for the very tip. Optimus whined, “No, wait—”

“Would you like to run that by me again,” Prowl growled. Optimus blinked rapidly, the sudden retreat of data tripping autonomic responses and making his optics spill cleansing fluid.

“Please,” He whimpered, his valve so fucking _empty_. He couldn’t remember what he had said or why, he just wanted to be spiked to badly, “Prowl, please, fuck me. I need it. I need you. Fuck me hard, please, please—”

Prowl’s mouth crashed down on to his the same moment he hilted the full length of his spike in Optimus. The air in Optimus' frame stilled as his fans stuttered for a moment, data firing through his system too quickly for his autonomic processes to keep up, but he was so _full_. Prowl wasn’t the biggest mech he’d ever been with, but fuck, in this moment he could barely tell. 

“So tight,” Prowl hissed against his cheek, “It has been a while, hm?”

Optimus moved his mouth, unable to find the command to engage his vocalizer. Prowl drew his helm back enough to look at him, and his face softened, “Oh, you really needed this. I’ll take care of you Optimus.”

The pace he set was _punishing_.

Optimus clenched and released his digits each time Prowl’s hips met his with a clang. The angle wasn’t quite right to brush his anterior node, but he almost didn’t care. It wasn’t often Optimus overloaded from nothing but valve stimulation, but as data fired over his synapses each time his and Prowl’s nodes aligned, he wondered if this was going to be one of the times.

Prowl seemed so _unaffected_ above him, keeping perfect time with his thrusts. His optics burned over Optimus’ face, unaffected and _attentive_ in equal measure. Optimus couldn’t look back at him for too long.

His charge plateaued. Optimus squirmed, trying to change the angle, get some new stimulation. Prowl stilled with his next thrust, buried in Optimus, “What do you need?”

“Close,” Optimus muttered, still moving as best he could, trying to catch his node on anything.

“Spike?” Prowl nuzzled at his face. Optimus turned his helm away, feeling too hot, too on edge. Prowl backed off.

“Node,” Optimus choked out, “Please.”

Prowl was silent for a long moment and cleanser dripped from Optimus’ optics again. Prowl pressed his wrists into the ground, “Keep them here.”

Optimus keened as they were released, missing the weight, the pressure, but he didn’t move. Prowl hitched one of Optimus’ knees over his hip, his other servo inching between their frames, “I’ve got you.”

He rolled his hips, not withdrawing too far. His digits brushed Optimus’ anterior node and Optimus sobbed a heaving vent. The contact rocketed over his sensor net, “Harder. Press—”

Prowl obliged, his digits pressing down almost painfully on Optimus’ node before he grabbed it between two and pinched. Optimus’ optics whited out for nanoklik, as the data overwhelmed his sensor net and finally coalesced into an overload. His calipers cinched down on the spike inside him, nodes all matching up to the perfect charge giving nodes of Prowl’s spike.

He wasn’t aware of anything beyond the charge cascading through his system. He might have made a sound. He might not have. Optimus finally came back to awareness with Prowl draped over his frame, having overloaded at some point as well.

“Primus,” Prowl groaned, “You _needed_ that.”

“A bit,” Optimus huffed a laugh.

“I’ve never been pulled over by a partner that forcefully,” Prowl managed his own brand of amusement right back, “I think if you hadn’t been grounded against earth like you are, you might have blown something.”

“Mm,” Optimus considered his frame. He felt worn out, a little sore, and _fantastic_ , “Thank you.”

Prowl shifted enough to nip at Optimus’ jaw, “Fucker.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about robots on twitter @floralpunkcfb


End file.
